


Incidental Music:  Fried Snow Extras

by MegRae



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-25
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-07-15 19:37:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7235824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MegRae/pseuds/MegRae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Extra stories, background stories, different POVs, all related to Fried Snow! </p><p>Ratings and warnings will be posted in the beginning notes for every chapter. Marked explicit for future content.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Scarf in the Snow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating - T, maybe? Not explicit, just sad.
> 
> Papyrus looks back on the last year as he waits for Chara at the end of Snowdin.

The snowstorm swirls all around – it's a sudden onslaught of a blizzard. It's not that it's a particularly strong storm, it's the magical wind that's making it impossible to see in. In fact, if you were looking over the scene, say from a nearby snowbank, you'd only see a lone silhoutte in the snowstorm.

He's that lone figure in the storm.

Papyrus isn't stupid. He's putting on a brave face, but he's scared. His SOUL, the small white upside-down heart that is the entirety of his being, is quivering in nervousness behind his sternum. He knows that this could –and probably will- go horribly wrong. He'll probably die here, his dust becoming indistinguishable from the snow.

He has to try though. For the other monsters. For Undyne. For you. For Sans. As he stands in the snow, waiting for the tiny human that's covered in the dust of the innocent, he thinks about the past year of his life.

Nothing had been quite right since dad died. Everything in his life had fallen to pieces when King Asgore had shown up on their doorstep.

"I'm so sorry," the King had said once he had both of them on the couch with tea in their hands. "There's been an accident at the CORE. Your dad...Gaster... he's gone. He's done a great service to us all over the years and I don't even have his dust to give to you both."

He had cried with the King while Sans...Sans hadn't reacted at all at first. Sans hadn't reacted until he was waking him up one morning, a week later, telling him to start packing.

His entire life had been uprooted at his brother's fancy. He'd been so angry at first. Their dad dies and a week later, they're moving to the outskirts of the underground? His Royal Guard dream would be dead and he didn't want to – then Sans had pulled a giant skull out of nowhere like dad could and Papyrus understood.

Sans couldn't stay where he was. Sans was free at the price of his dad's death, so he was choosing to run. So he'd followed Sans to Snowdin, determined the make the most of it. If Sans needed to baby him to get better, so be it.

To his surprise everything had fallen into place. He'd even MET Undyne. She'd even taken him on as her protégé! He was well on his way to becoming a member of the Royal Guard! To fame! To respect! To friendship!

Time was healing all of his wounds. Sans was...well, Sans. Hurt hidden behind a Cheshire Cat grin that he thinks has everyone fooled.

Then you'd fallen. In a way, you're the reason he's doing this. He'd never hated humanity in the least, but you still surprised him. He thought he'd been prepared to turn in any human that fell automatically. But... Instead of being a cruel and scary being like the stories had taught him, you were kind and just. He wasn't prepared for that.

When he'd first laid eyes on you, you had been terrified. When he closes his eyes and thinks about it, he can still see you shaking like a leaf. But you'd gone along with the puzzles without complaint even though you were hurt. Rather than tell them that you were hurt, you collapsed in the snow. He wondered why until he saw you visibly flinch and move away from Sans while you were eating.

Ah.

He'd been so disappointed in his brother in that moment. A hurt human, alone in the underground, and Sans decides to threaten them if they hurt his feelings. Sans is sometimes incredibly predictable. He remembers thinking that he'll give his older brother a day to pull his head out of his ass before he intervenes. He hadn't had to.

Sans is visibly upset that night and into the next day. As he should be – assuming he used magic on the short creature, he'd probably made whatever injuries they'd had worse. He knew Sans wanted to apologize, so like the Great Brother and Great Strategist that he is, Papyrus created an opportunity.

He hopes that one day he'll be able to apologize to Mettaton in person for creating that disgusting pile of pasta and naming it after him. At least it looked pretty. If he survives this, changes this small human's mind, he'll make sure that he marches straight to Mettaton to apologize actually.

His plan had worked at least – out of the corner of his socket at the right angle, he watches Sans use magic to help you. This is one of his fondest memories of you actually – this is when he decides that you are a truly great friend, as you tell him that the pasta "isn't bad" and even bravely take a few bites. When Sans saunters off later that night, he just grins in triumph when the front door closes behind him.

Things had gone better than he could have dreamed of after that. Whatever Sans had said to you had worked – the three of you became nearly inseparable. Sure, he felt guilty about not turning you in to Undyne, but his SOUL would tell him not to mention you every time he saw her. So he didn't. Later, when Undyne was screaming at him for being a "shitty royal guardsmen and an even shittier friend" he knows he made the right choice.

It's the moment he decides that being in the Royal Guard isn't for him after all. He's not stupid, but he's not psychic either – how was he supposed to know that the humans had been killed for their SOULs if no one told him? He thought human SOULs were powerful of enough to do this when they were alive.

You were kind, funny, thoughtful, and good down to your SOUL - dying to free them all wouldn't be right. In his opinion, in the last three months you've flourished down here. You're like the sister he's never had before. You train with him, cook with him sometimes, watch movies with him, and even help with his traps! Although if he fixed the bridge, how would anyone get to the more fun and complicated puzzles?

Something he hadn't thought about was how Sans felt about you. It was shortly he introduced you to Undyne that he noticed something different in his brother. At first he ignored it, Sans was always a bit of a strange one, but then you started acting slightly different too. Nothing drastic or sudden, just...different. A puzzle in his own home.

When he tucked you both in on the couch last night after you'd both passed out, still platonically spaced, the puzzle had still existed. This morning it had been solved finally – the feelings between you two weren't platonic. They were anything but. The body language alone had confirmed it, but Sans' blush and the tender way he'd looked at you were the final two nails in the coffin. He'd never seen his brother falling in love before.

The touches that you two shared, the drinks at Grillby's, and how comfortable Sans was around you... How had he missed it? It was obvious once he knew what he was looking at. His older brother had found someone.

Sans was happy again. He deserved to be, too. Sans hadn't been treated well their father and Papyrus was just starting to realize that that treatment wasn't exclusive to their home life. He'd pushed Sans, pushed him hard to be a genius of the sciences. There was something more though. Something had to have happened to Sans to be able to pull those things out of the void.

Papyrus knows that he physically resembles their dad more, but with the exception of their shared ability to use blue magic, that's where it ended. Should he have had Sans train him on how to summon the Blasters and use the void? Probably.

'Definitly actually,' he thinks as the tiny human with red eyes approaches. Time to try and be the hero of this story.

As soon as they take a step towards him, ignoring his olive branch, he gets hit with this sick sense that he's done this before.

When they strike, for a second, he knows. He knows they've done this before. He's fallen countless times by their hand.

"I STILL BELIEVE IN YOU...."

'SANS' he tries to finish, but he can't.

 

* * *

 

When the Great Papyrus walks up on his brother helping carrying a human, he's shocked. Sans was always so protective of him, needlessly so, but something in his brother's face says that he trusts the taller of the two humans.

Papyrus doesn't know how to feel about the tiny human, they are a mystery, a puzzle that he intends to solve. Something tells him to be cautious, to reserve judgment on them.

You? He trusts you right away. You're good – he feels it in his bones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's no way I can get a chapter up on FS today and I have writer's block on finishing the second chapter of this so...
> 
> Have a case of the sads.


	2. Underfell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated E for smut!
> 
> Basically, I'm a slut for Underfell Sans and wanted to practice my smut writing. I started this back in May/early June. 
> 
> This is an alternate chapter 22 essentially. 
> 
> *This is 5,000 or so words of mostly porn, so while it's a bit excessive and I know it, critique is encouraged. I struggle with the line between undetailed smut and super excessively explicit smut*

  
Everything hurts. Everything feels heavy. Your brain is throbbing in your skull. What the fuck happened? You're clearly alive since you can feel pain, but you can't muster up the strength to open your eyes yet.

  
Alright -----, what's the last thing you remember?

The sound of wind. Well, that's exactly zero percent helpful. Before that? It was New Year's eve, lots of drinking, catching up with old friends, dodging questions about why you'd dropped off the face of the earth, something about hiking...

  
Okay, there's a start.

  
Your alarm going off, hiking up to the meeting spot by yourself... A child being there. That's progress.  
Oh. Pulling the kid away, ground giving out beneath your heel, falling into the undeground. Monsters. Magic. SOULs. Your memories flash behind your eyelids. A child – Frisk, your mind supplies- possessed by a long dead child, a demon that called itself Chara. Multiple timelines.

You'd been here for three months.

  
No wonder your head hurts.

  
The smell of flowers is the next thing you register. Well, at least you remember everything. You've clearly reset with this place. Man, what's this going to be like? Going through the motions, repeating the same actions again and again. At least Sans will remember too.

  
Sans. Once you leave the ruins, you're going to shove your foot so far up his bony little ass (pelvis? Kick him in the coccyx? Now that thought makes you giggle). It's easy to be forgiving when you think you're going to die or that you won't remember, but you do, which means that you and a certain skeleton are going to need to have a little talk when you leave the ruins.

  
The kid. Frisk. At the memory of the child, you snap awake. You're alone in the bed of flowers again. You manage to stand up, but you're shakey. You limp forward, careful to not injure yourself further.

  
In the next room, Flowey's waiting. He's not smiling. He looks sad. When he spots you, he goes from sad to terrified.

  
"Oh no, another human." He's talking to himself, not you. "You need to run! Hide, stay in the shadows! Don't let her see you!"

What?

  
"Since when are you helpful?" You can't keep the anger out of your voice. He's tried to KILL you. Multiple times. Before time had reset, you had the scars on your back to prove it.

  
He looks confused. "I d-don't understand what you mean? I've never met you before." What? "I'm Asriel, but call me Flowey. Please, hurry along! I don't want to see her hurt anymore humans." With that, the flower disappears into the ground.

  
What the fuck is going on?

  
His fear was genuine. You may not know what's going on, but you figure you better be careful. The Delta Rune on your neck burns your chest as you walk into the next room. Something is very wrong.

  
You complete the puzzles and notice that the ruins look different. Even the monsters look different from what you can tell (you had decided to take Flowey's advice and duck out of sight when you see others). Everyone is darker, scarier. The ruins feel of desperation and sadness, not just isolation.

  
You're almost to Tori's before you're spotted by the goat monster herself. Her robes are different this time. They are black instead of purple, her eyes yellow and red, and she looks positively unhinged.

  
"Oh, an adult human!" She cackles like she's heard a hilarious joke when she spots you. "After all these centuries of keeping us locked down here, one of you joins us!"

This isn't your Tori. What the fuck is going on?

  
She circles you slowly, eyeing you up and down. "No LV and no EXP. That's too bad... For you." Flames appear next to her, two giant columns of death. "You won't be able to defend yourself."

You feel her tug on your SOUL and – NO! You refuse, turning on your heel and bolting.

  
Into her house.

  
Into the basement.

  
Fireballs and heavy footfalls are hot on your trail. One hits you and you stumble forward. You feel your back blister through your shirt. FUCK.

  
Keep moving, ----. Almost out!

  
"RUN!" Of all the monsters in the underground, it's Flowey that buys you the time to get out.

 

* * *

 

  
You throw yourself into Snowdin's forest. The door behind you slams shut and you hear Toriel's screech of disappointment through it. You're gasping for breath, adrenaline leaving you, and you collapse into the snow.

You were injured before and now... Ugh. It's not your day, that's for damn sure.

  
"well, well, well. look what we have here. a lost little human." That voice...

  
"Oh thank god, Sans," you say automatically, looking up.

  
That's not your Sans.

  
He's the same height, the same build, but that's about all that's the same. His hoodie is black and he's wearing a red turtleneck instead of a white one. His black shorts have yellow stripes and it looks like this Sans has found himself some red chucks. His face... His eyes are small red pupils and his teeth are all sharp now, one of them gold.

"how do you know who i am?"

This is when you finally lose hope. Of all the things you've seen that are different... It isn't until this moment that the little flame of hope that says 'it's going to be fine' is snuffed out. There's no kindness in his tone. He doesn't remember you.

"You... you don't remember me?" You have to be sure.

  
"why should i? you have to see someone before to know who they are."

  
You hang your head again. "I see." What do you do now? In all the things that your Sans and you had fretted over, him not remembering wasn't on that list.

You hear some light crunching in the snow before his shadow looms over you. You hear his bones crack lightly and look up – he's squatting directly in front of you now, the red dots in his sockets examining you.

  
"so, you have no LV or EXP on your SOUL. you know my name and sounded thankful to see me, but didn't expect to see me at the same time. you're another anomaly, aren'tcha?" He smells like mustard, not ketchup which for some reason makes you want to cry. You lick your lips and nod your head. He sounds intrigued by you which is –hopefully- a good thing.

  
"c'mon, human. we're going to go somewhere private so we can chat about what's going on. any funny business and your blood will paint the ground, got it?"

  
"Got it."

  
He grabs your elbow and pulls you into the void.

 

* * *

 

  
He takes his time in the void before he touches down in that small hidden area in Waterfall. Your Sans had taken you here, god, a literal lifetime ago. The thought makes a hysterical giggle fall from your lips. This Sans eyes you like you've grown another head.

  
Whatever. Fuck what he thinks.

  
"talk."

  
So you do. What could it hurt? You tell him about the other timeline. About three months of no resets. About the him in blue that was so kind to you (mostly). About Chara's SOUL. About dying.

  
You don't tell him about the sex. About your feelings for him. He doesn't need to know that much.

  
"if what you say is true then i hate to break it to ya, but ya fell into a different multiverse, sweetcheeks." What? "there's more than just one universe girlie. they run parallel to each other usually – never a hint as to there being a different you in a different reality. you...you just hit the shit lottery and wound up in this hellhole."

  
"this is a different underground than the one you left. there is no safety here. we ain't nice."

  
"You don't seem that bad." A little ruder and meaner than your Sans, but not bad.

  
He scoffs. "not often someone sees me and sounds happy ta see me. was curious, tha’s all." His speech is interesting. He's so different from the Sans you know, but also so similar. Just like your Sans, he has his hands thrust in his pockets and he also has that same curiosity in his gaze.

  
"So now what?" He shrugs.

"Really? I could free you all and since you're 'not nice' you should have zero qualms with killing me, but I'm here. What do you want?" 

His grin widens at that. "ballsy for a lady. 'm curious 'bout something else too. wha' was i to you over there?"

  
"Fuck off," you snarl out. Just like that, he has you on edge and not in a good way.

  
"feisty. i like that." He's circling you now, like a predator cornering its prey. "how do i know ya tellin' the truth anyway?"

  
"I know about the resets. You never would have told me if you hadn't trusted me.” For every step backwards you take, he takes two more steps toward you. The gleam in his eyes is predatory and you don't know how you feel about that.

  
"true. but there's one way to prove everything to me, sweetheart." Sweetheart. The pet name brings back flashes of your Sans, begging you not to watch him die. Of the hottest sex you've ever had. Of – your body betrays you. ' _Trust him_ ,' it purrs, ' _he's still Sans._ '

  
You shiver and hope that your arousal isn't obvious. "H-How can I prove it?"

  
"lemme see your SOUL, sweetheart," he purrs the last part and you know that he knows what it did to you. Bastard.

  
"Fuck off. That's private."

  
"ya not in any position to demand privacy, human." He closes in on you then. You're pressed to the wall of the cave with nowhere to go. "ya can willingly show me and maybe i let ya live, keep you safe. or you can keep playing coy and i could kill you and rip it from your fucking body."

  
He moves his arms to pin you in for real. Trapped. You're trapped like a goddamn animal in a cage, and because it's still Sans, your flight or fight response won't even kick in. You trusted your Sans so much and so, by default, your SOUL trusts this one too.

"it's more fun if ya alive though."

  
"Fine, fine. Can you at least back up some?" To your surprise, he does. At the look on your face he chuckles out something about give and take. He suddenly checks the time before he grins and grabs you again, pulling you back into the void.

  
"Some fucking warning please." You're practically growling over your nausea. "Not meant to be yanked through the void without some fucking warning." Where are you now? You've never been here before.

  
"thought we should be more comfortable for this. welcome to my room, dollface." It's so Sans that it hurts – messy and bare, yet somehow still screams him. For some reason, this relaxes you.

  
"You're still him, aren't you?"

  
"probably. don't know 'im, so can't say."

  
"Do you do puns?"

  
The mean look that his skull seems to be stuck in falters. "who wants to know?"

  
"Uh, I know your skull is technically empty, but me. Duh."

  
"uh, yeah. sometimes." The mask is gone, just like that. If it wasn't for the teeth and the red pupils, you'd think your Sans just robbed a Hottopic. "you like my- i mean his- his puns?"

  
You decide to be nice. To let your guard down a bit. If he kills you, maybe you'll reset back where you belong. "Yeah, I like them a _skele-ton_. Most of the time he manages to be pretty _humorous_." 

The red Sans laughs as he reaches his left hand towards your chest. "that's enough stalling. ready?"

The tough guy act is gone – you've intrigued him now and you know it. You nod.

  
Your SOUL practically flies out of your chest when he beckons it. It doesn't look the same this time. There's a giant crack right down the middle. "I'm different," you explain at his shell shocked face. "The, uh, crack wasn't there the last time I saw it though..."

The colors in your SOUL dance and twirl despite the crack. Maybe it was there since you got ripped out of your own universe?

  
You have more important things to worry about right now. "all the colors present in one SOUL," he glances at your face. "you feeling ok? cracks are serious business to monsters." You give him your best 'are-you-fucking-kidding-me' face and he gives a nervous chuckle. "i'm...i'm gonna touch it now. it's probably going to be intense."

  
"'Kay."

  
One bony phalange touches the side of it. Intense was a terrible word for this. It feels like you're on fire in the best way, it's both erotic and terrifying, it's like hot wax is being poured all over your entire person, pleasurable and painful all at once.

  
"you love me."

  
He lets your SOUL go back into your body and you try to look anywhere but at him. You don't say anything. He didn't say that he could see everything that were and want from touching your SOUL. You want to be angry at him for hiding that, for the extreme breach of boundaries, but you can't.

Your SOUL won't let you.

  
"look at me," he mumbles. You do – you don't want to, but you can't help yourself. "i'm the same guy. i'm just what happens when you're put in a hell where monsters are willing to tear each other to fuckin' pieces."

  
"You're just telling me what I want to hear."

  
He shakes his head and to your surprise, pulls his own SOUL out. The white upside heart, red webbing covering it, floats just above his palm. "i never told ya 'bout me over there apparently. 'm not a tough monster. i'm strong, but physically weak. it was gasters little fuckin' failsafe. so...you can touch my SOUL, but you need to be careful with it."

  
It's odd – the trust that this stranger was putting into you. He doesn't know you, why would he trust you? Your face must betray your thoughts. "you won't hurt me. i saw what kind of person you are. knowing blue boy the way you do in that timeline means you know me better than any monster here knows me already."

  
You shakily guide your index finger to his SOUL. You look at him for permission one last time - "just fuckin' do it sweetheart"- and you do.

  
He IS your Sans. Cloned from a thin skeletal being over twenty years ago, his magic turned red instead of blue. He blurs the extent of Gaster's cruelty from you. His demeanor is a mask that covers the exact same Sans that you know, protecting himself from monsters that have been underground for far too long. Protecting himself from a Papyrus that had grown to resent his older brother instead of loving him.

  
The resets have made him meaner here, yes. Kindness doesn't come easy for him. It has no reason to. These monsters had descended into madness over the centuries. 'Kill or be killed' indeed.

But, when you see yourself through his eyes, you feel the pull that you have on him. He's been drawn to you from the second you said his name.

  
When you drop his SOUL, his lips are on yours. Your mind betrays you – this isn't your Sans, but it's not _not_ your Sans either. You'll blame the lack of contact from your shower fuck for your desperation towards him later. For now, you just want to feel wanted.

This man offers that.

  
When you feel his tongue trace your lips, you press closer to him. He wants you. His fingers are desperate; tangling in your hair, scratching down your back – it's like he doesn't know where to touch you. To be fair, you aren't much better. You've just tangled your hands in the fluff of his hood since you don't know what else to do with them.

  
Before you know it you're in his lap, straddling him, when he sits on his bed.

  
"you're something else, kitten." When you pull away to look at him, his pupils are gone –only one ruby red iris is in his left socket watches you through lidded eyes. "if i didn't know better, i'd think ya wanted another skeleton inside of ya."

  
"Maybe I do." When had you gotten so bold? You're about to be two for two on this brazen thing.

  
"heh. that can be arranged." He kisses you again, but after a minute you feel his boney fingers directly on your sides. You can't help the evil grin that disrupts your kiss as you beat him to the punch, tossing your shirt and bra somewhere behind you.

  
This Sans doesn't even pretend to be shy. Palms cover your chest as he brings his mouth to your neck, sharp teeth nipping downwards.   
“wanna feel a magic trick?” Um. “it'll be a good time babe, i promise ya that.” You're skeptical, but you manage to mumble out a yes as you dive for his neck.

  
Holy shit. You're on fire. You can't help it, a loud moan escapes you before you can even think about containing it. The desire in you belly is suddenly like lava and, if your breasts are any indication the only thing that can cool you is Sans.

  
“like that, huh, kitten?”

  
“What did you do?” You have to bite your lip. What did he do and can you have more?

  
“i did it in your other timeline, too. just muted it. it's a fun little trick. i use my magic to add my desire onto yours.” He moves his sharp mouth over your heart and gently bites down over it. “it can go both ways, but i think we’ll just stick to this for now.”

  
You look down to see a long red tongue curling around your nipple as his hands skim down your sides. Wait a minute, this wasn't fair in the least!

  
You wanted to be a seductress to him, but instead you're a wanton mess as you pull at his jacket and –once that's off- his shirt. When he matches you, you pull away (shivering as he whines in complaint)to look at him.  
“I knew you were big boned.”

  
“wanna see another big bone?”

  
“We’ll get there,” you say with a giggle. He throws on an insulted face at your laughter before he winks and throws you (surprisingly gently) on to your back.

  
Now he's the frantic one as he tugs off your jeans(you have no idea where you shoes have gone. Whatever, that's a problem for later), leaving you in nothing but a lacy pair of panties. “were ya plannin’ on getting laid today sweetheart?”

  
“Nope,” you pop the ‘p’ sound playfully. You can't bring yourself to worry about anything right now – probably a side-effect of that little magic trick of his. Sans grin turns dark as kisses down your body. You shiver and claw at his shoulders as he nears your panty line.

  
“Sans.” He doesn't answer, just bites one side as he uses his hand to pull down the other side. You're naked, bare in front of this version of Sans.

  
“ya look good enough to eat,” his grin is positively lewd. “in fact, mind if i have a sample?”

  
“Can I,” you lick your lips, mouth suddenly dry, “can I touch you too?”

  
The lewd grin drops to show tenderness. "later. now can i touch ya or not? "

  
"Yes."

  
Just like in the shower, coherency leaves you. His bony fingers explore your folds carefully, almost systematically, at first to figure out what you like. Once he does, it's game over. He uses that same trick that the other him had, flooding magic to his fingertips, and onto your clit. He brings you close – so, so, so close- only to stop right before you can fall off that cliff.

  
"Sans," you can't keep the whine out of your voice.

  
"whasup kitten?" When you whine out a 'please' he grins at you, showing off those sharp teeth of his. "please what?"

  
You're already on fire, but somehow you manage to blush. "I wanna..."

  
"wanna what, kitten?"

  
"I wanna come. Please, Sans."

  
"your wish is my command." He moves quickly now, plunging two fingers into your core as he flips his wrist to keep his thumb on your clit. You're twitching – away from him, toward him; your body doesn't know how to handle this.   
Then you feel magic sparking at your clit and look down to see a translucent red tongue extending from his jaw. You throw your head back and just lose yourself in the feeling. He teases you – letting you get close to that glorious white hot feeling, slowing down to keep you from nirvana, and then –once you could think again, repeating the process.

  
"Sans, please!" You're sweating. "Please, please, please!"

  
You here a dark chuckle from between your thighs. "since you beg so nicely," Sans purrs. His tongue sparks with more magic and he hooks his fingers one last time and –there!

  
You don't come down like you normally do. Sure your mind (kind of) comes back online, but there's no real relief. No break in desire. No sense of overstimulation as his talented phalanges gently keep toying with you. You gulp and glance down at Sans. You know that he's the reason why. Even if you didn't sense it, the smug look on his skull would give it away.

  
"what's wrong? want more?"

  
"Yes, but not right now."

  
Liar. Liar, liar, liar.

  
"Wanna touch you."

  
Truth.

  
"heh. man, i owe the me that you met first big time." He stops touching you with his hands, using his mouth to kiss and nip up your body as he moves upward from between your legs. "who woulda thunk that a human would be desperate to touch a skeleton, hmm?"

He goes to say something else, leaning over you looking oh-so smug, until you touch his cheekbone. 

"How do I...?" He stares down at you. "Will I hurt you if I touch you?"

  
"no. fuck. no," his voice is strange, strangled sounding. "how did i not let you...? no, it won't hurt me unless you try to hurt me. intent and all that jazz."

Intent? Eh, who cares right now? You slowly slip your hand down from his cheek to his neck, to his clavicle. He shivers. You keep going down, your other hand wrapping around him to trace his spine.

  
He doesn't say anything, just breathes heavily as you make your way lower on his spine and touch the inside of his ribs. He shudders at that, the red iris rolling upward and his bones clacking together. You nudge him with your leg and he sighs, letting you roll him over so that you're on top of him again. When you scooch down so that you can kiss his sternum he groans.

  
"blue boy is a far better man than i am." You stop, glancing up at him from his ribs. "he didn't want to hurt you more or be hurt. me? 'm a glutton for punishment." His eye pulses brighter for a second and you can feel the magic surging in his bones – and there's something pressing into your belly that wasn't there a second ago.

  
Magic.

  
You trace down his ribs with your tongue, fingers ahead of the game on the wings of his pelvis. Did this count as having sex with another man or the same one? Did it really matter? You inch down his body a little more, sliding to the side as you grab the waistband of his gym shorts.  
"Can I -?"  
"yes. whatever you want. i could crumble to dust right now and die a happy man." You glare up at him. "wha'? it's the truth."

  
"Not funny."

  
"oh. my bad." You roll your eyes at how not sorry he sounds and pull down his shorts. Red magic, indeed. It certainly looks like a human penis, but not like one you've been with before. He's long, thick, and -

  
"Is that a piercing?" You try –and fail- to keep the disbelief out of your voice.

  
"heh. _ribbed_ for your pleasure." This time, you let out a real laugh and he smiles down at you.

  
"How-?"

  
"magic." Of course. Your roll your eyes and experimentally wrap a fist around it. Magic sparks in your hand at the contact. This could be fun. You give him a few exploratory pumps, twirling your hand at the head. He shivers.

  
"tha's nice." He relaxes into his bed, hips following your motions surprisingly gently. "'m not a total brute. i like my partners being willing and eager to jump in tha' sack with me. besides, you're not dangerous ta me. " You hadn't meant to question how gentle and kind the edgy-looking skeleton was being to you now that you were naked.

  
It did make you feel better though. For whatever reason, you took his words as permission to keep going. When you give him a lick from base to tip, he hisses under his breath as he uses his hands to push you away.

  
"Is something wrong?" You bite your lip and he just stares for a second.

  
"no. i ,uh, 'm kinda on edge here. ya start that and i'll pop off a little too soon." A red flush colors his cheekbones. Huh, in this timeline he's like you – you know it's magic but, just like you, he turns red when he gets flustered. It's kinda endearing.

  
Before you bruise his ego though – you quickly go back to straddling him, letting his cock rest between your folds. His sockets go wide.

  
"Oh? That so?" He glares at your coyness as his hands find your hips. You barely keep the giggle in as he tries to push in and you move your hips to make it impossible. He hits your clit with that thrust though and you can't hold in that moan.

  
You keep repeat the process a few more times –it dawns on you that this is a twisted revenge against the Sans in your timeline- thrilling in being able to see him be on the receiving end of the teasing.

  
"----." He shivers below you. "ya killing me."

  
You can't have that. So you roll your hips a little more and – this time – he finally enters you. You gasp, hands going for his ribs as your eyes roll back. The magic sparking in you feels amazing. He doesn't move at first, fingers digging into your hips, holding you still.

  
You whine – you want more. You open your eyes with some effort and look down – he's watching you. What is he waiti- oh. He helps you lower onto him slowly, that single glowing eye locked with yours.

  
He wanted you to be looking.

  
There's more to this Sans than meets the eye. He lets you set the pace. He seems to know that your last encounter with him was over to soon for your liking (he'd probably seen it, actually) so he lets you explore him as you move your hips on him, only mumbling out encouragements and praises when you do something right.

  
You're close again. The magic that's nipping at your insides combined with his breathy moans are doing you in faster than you thought they would. When you come with his name on your lips, you grab at his ribs and his hips snap up hard. The sudden roughness makes you scream.

Again, the fire doesn't die.

  
"fuck, ya feel good. and ya like it rough?" He snaps his hips up again and you let out a needy sound. "perfect." His grin is dangerous as he rolls you so that he's on top in one fluid motion, hips snapping seamlessly into a new pace.

  
It's perfect. You're only aware of the two of you (no more blue or red Sans, just Sans) – the noises he makes and how he makes you feel. He's not as talkative as his blue counterpart, but what he does say is just as hot, if not hotter. When he tosses both of your legs onto his shoulders and goes onto his knees, you practically scream at the angle change.

  
"Fuck!" You scramble, trying to latch onto him. He slows his pace, teasing. "So uh, that magic trick?"

  
"wha' 'bout it?" Oh man, you want him to keep talking. His voice betrays that he's just as overcome as you are.

  
"Both ways?" You hope he gets it. Your brain just can't quite get words to your mouth right now.

He does, judging by the grin.  
"someone wants a _monster_ in the bed with them, hmm?" He nips at your calf, eye full of mischief, his playful pace continuing.

  
"Sans, please!" You beg and that does it. You feel the magic flood your system again (or you're reminded of it) and Sans stops mid-thrust.

  
"holy shit." He's panting, shivering above you. "holy shit. you – this-" He groans and picks his pace back up. You're in heaven – all of your senses are being assaulted by him. Even the pain of his pelvis slamming into your skin feels good.

  
He drops your legs at some point and ends up pressed flush against you, one hand in your hair and one holding your hand/holding himself up. You're lost, blissed out . You don't think you want to be found either. That odd compounded magic trick is the single most amazing thing you've ever experienced.

  
Only a few more thrusts later, you finish with Sans. It's like fireworks shoot off behind your eyelids as you grip onto his ribs, Sans' groaning being the only thing you're even half aware of outside of yourself.

  
When you finally come down, you're sore. You can feel the bruises and scratches blossoming on your skin. For a few minutes, you just focus on how you feel and the warmth that Sans is emitting.

  
“So what now?” You finally ask. Your mind is still a muddled puddle of pleasures mush.

  
“now you’re _mine_.” Your eyes snap open. He thinks you're _**what**_ now? “i’m not so bad. i’ll keep you safe. if you leave, that's the last thing you'll be.”

  
You shiver from fear this time as disgust with him –no, not him-; as disgust with yourself prickles in your gut.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	3. A Story of Fire and Ice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated M
> 
> Mentions of death, child death, and murder.
> 
> Takes place sometime between chapters 62 and 64.

No matter how much you love working for Grillbz, you always watch the clock for that last hour when he actually gives you a scheduled end time. It doesn't matter if his bar is barren or filled to the brim with monsters, your eyes automatically seek out the clock. It's actually worse when Sans is there since you have to pry yourself away from him to get work done or make sure that you aren't spending too much time with your boyfriend. Living with him or not, he was good company and a good distraction.  

 9:45pm. 

 Fifteen more minutes. 

Sans hadn't come in tonight. You don't take it personally at all. This is your job and you do both need some space from each other. That's the healthy thing to do, right? 

 Man, you're really out of practice with this ‘dating’ thing. Cohabitation was a whole ‘nother issue, since the first (and last) romantic partner you’d lived with had been…uh, bad to say the least.  

“ _You're doing it again.”_  

 Whoops, zoning out. You give your friend a sheepish smile as you return to the present. At least it’s a slow night tonight.  

 “ _What's on your mind?”_  

  _“_ Just thinking. Nothing good really.” You're fine. That part of your life is over and can't touch you. They're up on the surface and you're underground. With your soulmate, friends, and an adopted child of your own in a way.  

They can't touch you. The only way they can hurt you now is if you let them. 

 “ _Uh-huh.”_ Grillby gives you a look that says he knows you're full of it. “ _Go ahead and finish up. It's dead and I can take it from here.”_ You wink before showing you ass. Instead of walking around the bar like a normal person, you clamber over it and into a barstool. “ _Rude.”_  

You just offer him your biggest shit-eating grin as you order a drink. It's not like your shoes were super muddy or anything. Besides, you're sitting in front of where they’d been.  

 “ _I hate you for making me do more math, you know?”_  

 “I have gold dude. Don't worry about subtracting it, I’ll just pay.” 

 “ _You're just_ _worried that if I subtract it from your pay than you’ll have to acknowledge that you have a problem.”_ He winks at you before you can get mock-offended, getting to work on your drink. “ _Everything ok at home?”_  

 “Yeah, just giving the bonehead a bit of space. That's normal, right? That's a thing healthy couples do?” He nods before making his quick check in with everyone else.  

 You can't get your mind off it now. You give a low groan before you take a sip of your drink. Sans is so much better for you than your ex. Soulmates. Are you good for him too? You feel the light frown on your face – you think so.  

 He seems happier lately. You've caught him looking at you strangely lately. Not a bad strange. How could you describe it? It was love, desire, and longing all rolled into one. It’d make your heart melt if it wasn't for the fear and worry that mixed with it.  

 “ _What’s on your mind? Really on your mind?”_ You jump, nearly knocking the glass that you’d been absent-minded twirling between your palms over. “ _Don't lie to me.”_  

So you tell him. When you voice your concerns, he just looks at you like you're stupid. When you mention the look on Sans’ face, his posture shifts from condescending. He unfolds his arms and leans onto the bar near you, a sad smile in his flames.  

“ _I think I know what that face is about._ _Imagine that you've found out that there's someone who's SOUL_ _resonates with yours. Li_ _ke you've found a part of you that you didn't_ _know was missing. Then imagine knowing that it's there and not being able to feel it at all times again.”_  

Jeeze, what was it like to be that in tune with yourself? “That bad, huh?”  

Grillby just gives you a wistful smile before he starts to straighten up behind the bar. Would you ever be able to feel Sans the way that he feels you? You can't even sense Grillby unless he makes himself known on purpose. Had humans ever been in touch with their SOULs?  

 “ _Stop thinking so hard. It looks painful.”_ Maybe he can answer that. 

 “Can you tell me about her?” You just blurt it out finally. Grillby sputters for a second, confusion immediately melting away. “Sorry, you just told me you would and I'm curious about the woman who has my best friends SOUL.” When he doesn't answer at first, too busy with a spot of dried god-knows-what on the bar top, you want to kick yourself. Goddammit why had you opened your big mouth about Joan without him mentioning her first and at work to boot?  

 So stupid. So, so, so stupid.  

 “ _Let me get refills going and then happily.”_  

 

**_***********_**  

 

Five hundred years later and when he closes his eyes, Grillby can still see Joan just as she was the day he first noticed her. She looked like you, as he’s said before, a striking similarity in your face and more importantly, the same spark of life in her eyes. He doesn't mention that for one moment, one glorious moment, that when he first saw you in that first timeline that he allowed himself to believe in reincarnation in his desperation.

Human and monster relations were tense five-hundred years ago. They were on the cusp of war with each other, humans typically treating monsters as if they were scum and monsters ignoring humans as much as possible. There were always exceptions, but it was the general climate at the time.  

The first time that Grillby laid eyes on Joan, he’d just been struck dumb by the fact that a human that he didn't know had smiled at him. In his three-hundred years, he’d never had a grown human, much less a grown woman, that he had no ties to smile at him.  

He’d gone to town to pick up some supplies for the month in town and she’d been in the store with him. She’d done a double take at him, all humans did, before she’d given him a dazzling smile. Grillby had fled the store like she was rain.  

He admits to you that it wasn't his finest moment.  

A week later, he’d been walking somewhere –where had been lost to time- when she’d deliberately bumped into him.  

“Hey, slow down! Where's the fire?”  

“Here?” She gives a little laugh. He’d been so unsure of himself at the time. “I mean, I AM the fire?” He wishes that he could make himself sound confident. 

“That you are. Do you have a name or is it ‘the Fire’?” She smirks up at him and just like that, he’s transfixed.  

“Grillby.”  

"Well Grillby, it has been a pleasure to meet you. I won't keep you from whatever it is you're doing, but next time you should stop and talk with me for a bit.” 

He doesn't answer, just smiles and waves. 

 

* * *

 

Two days later, Grillby is tasting one of his first home brews. He’s always wanted to open a pub, but getting his hands on good alcohol as a monster was proving more and more difficult.  

So fuck it, why not do it himself? Monsters were having to be more and more self-reliant anyways. 

He’d made himself a bonfire on his land  and was settling in to eat some dinner when Joan appeared out of nowhere.  

“Oh. Good evening Grillby. I didn't realize that you lived out here. Sorry to barge in, but have you seen or heard a dog recently? He got out and I can't find him.” 

“ _No.”_ Why had he spoken his native tongue again? “No, I'm sorry. What does it look like? I can try and grab him if I see him.” 

She describes the hunting dog to him as her eyes flicker from him to the forest around his home repeatedly.  

“Do you drink?” He doesn't know where the compulsion to keep her here comes from, but he doesn't fight it.  

"Sometimes, why?” 

“I'm trying to make my own and uh, I could use some feedback.”  

"Sounds interesting." He feels her eyes on him as he pours her a small amount. He holds his breath as she puts it to her face – 

And when she scrunches up her face he really can't help but feel as if he's failed somehow. 

"Eck! Sorry my new friend, but something went wrong with this one. Better luck next time.” She shakes her head and makes a face.  

He should be offended by this, but he's not. It's oddly endearing actually. 

“Care for some stew to take the taste away?”  

“I can't tonight. I have a dog to find. Maybe next time?” 

“Of course.” He waves her off, smile fading as she fades away.  

He's not an idiot. There's not going to be a next time. 

 

* * *

 

Except there was.  

It was three nights later when she dropped by again. The knock on his door had startled him, but he’d joined her on his porch for dinner. To his surprise, the conversation flowed easily between them. When she asked to come by the next evening, he’d been surprised and pleased all in one. 

Even more surprising, she’d been by every evening for a week.  

“What are you doing?” Grillby just blurts it out that night as the sun goes down. 

Mouth full, she gives him a blank stare. When he stares back she dramatically swallows, blinking slow and deliberately. “Eating.” 

He feels his expression shift to match hers. Can she tell? “Clearly. That's not what I meant. Why do you keep coming back?” 

“Would you rather me not?” He detects a quiver of hurt under it all.  

“No!” He sees the dramatic flair of his flames on her skin – why does he care so much already? “Not at all. I enjoy our talks. Just… You're, uh…” 

Joan holds up a hand, signaling him to stop. “Don't. Don't say because I'm a woman or I might hurt you.”  

"Not just a woman. A human woman. A human woman that’s decided that hanging out with a monster nightly is a good idea.” 

She sighs. “Does it bother you?”  

“Only because I worry for you,” he admits. “You?” 

“No,” she says simply.  

He feels the smile light up his face, a smile that just grows when he realizes that she recognizes his smile as a smile.  

 

* * *

 

“Shouldn't you be married or something? Isn't that a ‘thing’ you humans do?” A month later and Grillby just realized what the pull Joan had on him was. Attraction. He's attracted to a human. 

He’s so thankful that they both work during the day. Not just for the fact that she’s over nearly every night, but for the sheer secrecy that it buys them. Once upon a time it wouldn't have been a big deal. Nowadays? Even most monsters would raise an eyebrow at the thought of being in a relationship with humans.  

"My father isn't a traditional man.” She offers no further explanation. “What about you?” 

“I just haven't met the right monster, I guess.”  

Later that night, she makes a move on him. She's getting ready to head home when he catches her staring at him. Before he can say anything she walks up to him, rocking forward onto the balls of her feet in front of him, her face inches from his.  

“What about human?”  

“W-what?”  

“You said you hadn't met the right monster. What about human?” 

He presses his lips to hers then, hers a pleasant chill on his own. 

"Does that answer that question?" For once, she's the one that's thrown off. 

 

* * *

 

They were inseparable from that night on.  Within a month, Grillby knew he was falling in love. He was enamored by the human woman. She kept him on his toes, challenged his mind, didn’t pander to his ego… He felt like a better monster already. In return, he encouraged her mind. Encouraged her interests no matter how unladylike humanity deemed them. Together, they'd even started working on a few brews as a couple.  

Things weren't perfect, but that was fine. She'd shied away from the SOUL conversation when they'd had it. It makes sense, he supposes when he really thinks about it. Humans weren't in tune to the magic that they did have, so the concept of a SOUL as a tangible thing had to be strange.  

So he let it slide. He let it slide for five months after the first time he'd approached the subject. Joan just kept changing the subject every time (Grillby gives you a pointed a look from behind the bar) until one day Grillby just snaps.  

"Stop dodging this. I'm not human," he says probably a bit too harshly. 

"I hadn't noticed."  

"Seriously. This is important to monsters. It's important to _me_." When she doesn't answer, he feels a flash of anger. "Joan. We do everything at night. We don't get to court like other couples. No one knows about us because no one will understand. If we ever get to go public, we have to be sure. This is how monsters know. There's no guesswork." 

on't know much about SOULs, but from what you say, they're private, right? Why do I need to show it to you after only a few months?" 

He scoffs, trying to let some of the irritation out. It wasn't the right thing to do. 

 In the years since, he's blocked out most of the argument that followed. What he does remember is the glare that she gave him before she stormed out, yelling that she wasn't coming back, and the feeling of his SOUL nearly breaking in two.  

The numbness of two nights with no company.  

Then the happiness of her showing up in the early hours of the afternoon of the third day, a feeling that morphed into pure joy when she shared her SOUL with him.  He doesn't have the words to tell you how it feels to find your soulmate and that's okay – you know the feeling. 

 

* * *

 

The wedding had been a simple ceremony. Joan's family, no matter how nontraditional they were, hadn't taken her announcement of loving a monster well. So together they'd packed up and left to go to Ebott and plead their case to the King and Queen. 

Tori married them at sunset that very night, hope for the future in her eyes.

 

* * *

 

Years passed. As relations between monsters and humans fell to pieces, his love for Joan only grew stronger. The way she defended him, even though he was chauvinistic enough to think that he should be the one defending her, vehemently against anyone –man or monster- who so much as dared to give them a look that could be halfway considered dirty. The way her dimples appeared when she smiled. The way -  

Well, there was a lot of reasons his love grew. 

Not the least of which being when he'd learned that they were having a baby. Aedus was probably one of the last hybrid children born, although Grillby doesn't really like to think about it. The first child had been amazing enough, he'd never thought anything would have come of playing with their SOULs, but then years later he'd been blessed with another one. 

He really wishes that he could have seen them both grow.  

Aedus had been a spunky eight year old at the time of his death. He appeared mostly human; hair that looked like Grillby's flames in the sun and eyes the same color as Joan's. A personality like a wildfire; unpredictable and wild, collapsing only when exhausted at the end of every day. The little unborn one... He doesn't dwell on that.  

At least they never knew hate. That little one had only known their parents' love.  

 

* * *

 

 

The day he lost Joan, he'd gone to see Gaster. The strange monster that had just appeared in Ebott one day, with his knowledge of science beyond that of anyone that Grillby had ever met, was curious about his son and unborn child. How did a monster and a human reproduce? What allowed that to happen? 

" _I don't know, Doctor Dingy Wings_ ," he smiles at his closest friend.   

"If you want my help with your family you won't call me that." There's no malice in his friend's voice.   

" _Doctor Ding Bat?"_  

"Grillby, please. Stop." He laughs at the disgruntled look on Gaster's porcelain like face. "Don't tell Aedus that name please." 

" _He came up with it."_ Gaster groans much to Grillby's delight. " _You'll understand if you decide to have kids. The_ _most annoying things become kind of cute. Like Aedus drawing on the walls."_  

"I don't think I have the patience for that." 

" _Neither did I._ " 

"Who knows if I can even have kids? I don't even know if I'm a 'monster' like you are. Sure my SOUL is the same, but... Either way, you and Joan are unique." 

" _We used to not be. According to the older monster this use to be normal. It's a shame that it's not anymore. All because they're afraid of our magic and that we'll take their SOULs."_  

Neither of them speak for a moment, both lost in thought. Gaster breaks the silence first. "So I'll see the three of you tomorrow, yes?" 

" _Wouldn't miss it for the world._ " 

 

* * *

 

He lied. How could he have known that the humans near them had decided to declare war on them? That they'd harm an innocent pregnant woman and a child? He'll never forget coming home to the clear signs of a struggle, feeling her panic through their bond, and rushing toward the gallows.  

What it was like to see her there, eyes wide in fear, trying to reassure him through the bond that everything would be fine. That she loved him.  

What it was like to see a human break his son's neck, eyes unblinkingly staring into his own. His son's SOUL, a monster SOUL, instantly snapping in two. 

What it was like to watch the same man break her neck, this time smirking over at him.  

He doesn't remember how he got over to her. He has no idea if he killed anyone to get to his family and even now, he doesn't care to know. He remembers pulling her SOUL into him and the power of her SOUL mixing with his magic. 

He was going to kill each and every person that had been a part of this -  No.  

She stops him. If he kills them, he's no better than them. He won't be the man that she loves if he does that. Instead he uses his magic like a solar flare, scaring them away. Then he carries their bodies away, thanking everything for his supernatural strength.  

He's digging two graves when Gaster reappears. He hears the small intake of breath from the skeleton-eqse monster at the sight.  

"I'm so sorry Grillby." He doesn't answer. Nothing will ever be the same.  

Gaster doesn't start a new grave, but helps him with the one he's working on. He appreciates it. Instead of taking a task from him, taking this away from him, Gaster is just helping the burden. It isn't much, but it's enough.  

When he finishes the first one, they start the second one together. Grillby doesn't cry, just focuses on moving the earth. He doesn’t cry until he grabs Aedus, flaming hair already dulling in death. He looks like he's asleep. 

Grillby even feels for a pulse, for a breath – nothing. When Grillby places him into the ground, like Aedus had been waiting, he finally crumbles to dust like a monster would.  

He starts to sob then. 

Nothing will ever be the same. 

Joan's SOUL pulses in his chest as he places her in the ground.  

" _I love you,_ " her voice whispers. " _Be happy,_ _Grillbz_ _. Don't mourn forever. We all want you to be happy again._ "  

His crying shifts to sobs as he places her in the ground. He grabs her hand, desperate. Don't go. Don't leave him alone. He can't do this without her. 

Gaster says nothing. 

That's when he feels her SOUL pull free, shattering before his eyes. Her hand squeezes his and then he's alone.  

Gaster places a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. "Whatever you need. Whenever you need it." 

 

* * *

 

 

You sniffle loudly, wiping at your face. Grillby gives you a melancholic smile, allowing himself to live in his memories for another moment. He sees so much of her in you that it hurts sometimes. He doesn't know if he's thankful for Sans being your soulmate or not. If he wasn't -

No, that train of thought does no good for any of the parties involved. He loves Sans, the son of his best friend gone crazy, he loves Joan, memory though she may be, and he loves you. The you is some weird emotional grey area that he refuses to dwell on. You aren't Joan and you sure as shit aren't his. You're his friend, his best friend, even without the bond.

"God Grillby. I'm so sorry. That's -" 

He pushes his strange feelings for you aside. He's your friend and that's all he'll ever be. That's all he wants to be. That's all he needs to be. 

" _Don't be sorry. I had ten years with the person I love the most in this world. Maybe one day I'll see them all again. Maybe I'll even meet the littlest one."_ His smile becomes happier as he reaches for and squeezes your hand. " _Do it. No matter what pain comes from it, it's so worth it. Bond with Sans, be happy. Everyone deserves that."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For whatever reason, Gaster butted into this and refused to get lost. 
> 
> I want to clarify that my Grillby DOES have romantic feelings towards Reader, even if it's just due to her being a bit like Joan combined with the bond. He's just a good enough man to not act on them - he cares enough about Reader to want her to be happy.


	4. Anatomy Lesson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated M. Takes place sometime between Chapters 34 and 64.
> 
> Surprisingly not smut. In which foreplay goes horribly wrong (for Sans) and you learn a bit more about Sans and how magic works.

You're warm and toasty, floating in that wonderful place between being awake and asleep, when you feel fingers on your stomach. Immediately you're yanked out of that place and awake, your mind firing rapidly, trying to figure out what's happening.  

Bed. 

Tingling.  

Snowdin. 

Behind you. 

You let out a dramatic groan, only the teensiest bit exaggerated, when you piece together what had woken you up. The fingers belong to Sans, the skeleton monster that you've fallen for, the magical tingling a dead giveaway. You're both still in bed, the skeleton monster spooning you. Why he of all monsters is waking you up is beyond you. Sans usually prescribes to the thought that sleep is sacred.

"Wha' time is it," you manage to get out around a yawn. 

"late." If he woke you up from a dead sleep in the middle of the night... 

"Late-late?" Sans just chuckles from behind you. Jerk. "I mean 'late at night' late or 'late morning' late?" 

"late morning. like 'paps and frisk gave up waiting on us to get up' late." Sans yawns too then, his hand running higher up your side. Huh, it doesn't feel like you'd slept in.  

"Mm, is that why you woke me up?"  

"i don't know what you're talking about, i just wanted to get comfortable." You give him the most doubtful 'mmhmmm' that you can manage which just makes him laugh again. You know his game. "i'm offended that you think so little of me. but now that you mention it..."  

Sans is deceptively quick for a monster that's known for his laziness. His hand rushes higher to grope you (you make a playfully outraged sound at this) before retreating, backing away and pulling you onto your back to face him. 

His lips are waiting for yours there, lazily wrestling you for dominance. How passionate he is never ceases to surprise you. When he pulls away, the two of you are both breathing heavily, his blue tongue visible.  

The blue glowing appendages don't get old. 

You stare at him a bit, which he notices, but unlike in the past he doesn't deflect or act embarrassed. Instead, he gives you a wink and lewdly traces his upper teeth with his tongue. That shouldn't be hot, it really shouldn't, but it is.  

"something wrong?" He's teasing you, playfulness oozing into his words. 

"Yes. I was rudely woken up by a horny monster." He has the gall to pretend to be offended. You lean up and press a kiss to his cheek before you pounce, rolling so that you're on top of him. Sans is instantly grinning like a madman up at you, clearly thrilled with this turn of events.  

Like he hadn't planned this.  

Time alone, truly alone - no Frisk or Papyrus – is hard to come by. You take advantage of every moment that you can get; so honestly you don't know if the two of you are just insatiable or if you're just seizing the moment. Or if you're still in the new couple honeymoon phase. Maybe all of the above? 

Sans gives you a playful slap on the ass when you don't do anything else. You heave a dramatic sigh, pretending that it's oh-so-hard to deal with the impatient man, before you playfully you kiss him between his sockets. When you lean back again, he's breathing deeply and there's a bulge that wasn't there before. One glowing iris is looking up at you expectantly. Rather than feeling a rush of heat, you're curious. Where does his other eye go? More importantly, what is wrong with you? 

 "I do want to know something." Oh you're going for it. Why not? 

"oh yeah?" He raises a browbone at you.  He's probably not going to like this compared to what was just happening.  

"How do you even work?" 

There's a single heartbeat of silence, Sans staring disbelievingly up at you, before he bursts out laughing. He's taking it better than you thought he would. He must lose his concentration too since after a few seconds his cock fades away to...wherever it is that it goes. 

God, that's a weird thought. Maybe it goes wherever his other pupil goes? No, stop, you aren't asking that. Not yet anyway. 

It takes a few minutes for him to calm down (and you too, since his giggling is positively contagious) and when he finally does manage to look at you without breaking out into even more giggles, the lights of his eyes are bright and happy. At least you haven't hurt his feelings or something. 

"you serious? we finally get a few minutes alone and you want an anatomy lesson?" You can't stop the bashful smile as it creeps up your face as you shrug. "really?" He leans up, pressing kisses into your neck.  

"that's really what you want to do right?"  

Kiss. 

 "this?"  

Lick.  

"moment?"  

Nibble. 

You shiver. Is it? Is this really when you want to do this? 

 "Yes?" He moves to the other side of your neck, his fingers diving under your shirt again. No, now you're really curious. Time to bring out the big guns. "I'll ask Papyrus if you don't tell me." 

Your trump card works. Sans stills, leaning back again, a mock glare on his face. "you wouldn't."  

Your bashful smile turns evil. "I would." You gently feel his ribs through his shirt. "Your call." 

"fine, fine. what do ya wanna know?" 

Usually you'd need time to think. Hell, even when you'd read his journals about the strange murdering child phenomenon you'd struggled with coming up with questions. Not this time. You have one right off the bat. 

"Breathing. Do you even actually need to breath or what?" 

"oh my god," Sans breaks down giggling again, "you really thought this out, huh? yes, i need to breathe. before you ask, yes i need to eat too." You'd figured that much and tell him so. "i have a body babe, told you before. it's just not corporeal unless i need it to be." That's...convenient.  

"Why is your tongue always there?" He snorts beneath you. "No, seriously! When you summo- oooh, actually, here's another one. How come when you summon body parts all of them aren't all blue and glowly?"  

To your surprise, Sans blushes. "fucking hell. of course you'd ask that," he groans. "so, uh, short answer to both is practice. i saw another monster stick their tongue out at someone when i was a babybones and i wanted to do that too. it just looked like something i needed to know how to do." 

"So you can't be bothered to walk up stairs, but you'll keep your tongue summoned for shits and grins?" 

"basically."  

"That's adorable. So wait, why doesn't your eye glow all the time?"  

"also practice. it annoyed gaster to know that i was wasting magic, so instead of dropping it i just kept practicing. one day, it just stopped taking any effort. so i just keep it visible. my eye only shifts when I'm actively tapping into my magic." 

"So you learned to do it to piss off your dad. That's," you pause to try and think of a word. "That's incredibly you." 

"you should have seen the look on his face when i stuck my tongue out at him for some reason and he realized that i wasn't actively having to work for it. dunno if he ever actually forgave me for that." 

You can't stop the laughter that comes out when you think of a spooky skeleton (monster), glaring at a young Sans just blowing raspberries up at him. Sans mouth quirks up into a smile at you when you finally calm down. "to answer your second question, i just don't usually put effort into making everything visible. it'd look weird. that and-" He stops, covering his eyes with his hands. "do I have to say more?" 

You didn't even know Sans could get embarrassed. "No! Of course not!" You won't force him to talk about anything he doesn't want to talk about. It does worry you a bit now that you really think about it – you'd never actually stumbled onto anything that was really off limits with him before.  

He's still hiding most of his face when you decide to apologize for making him uncomfortable in the most basic way you know how – touch. You start with his humorous, gently rubbing both of them before you slowly move to his ribcage through his shirt.  

It takes him a minute, but Sans does finally uncover his face. There's love and appreciation in those sockets, just for you, which makes something pleasant twist in your chest. After a moment of just looking at you (a habit that both thrills you and makes you nervous all at once), he pointedly looks away from you. 

"we can't change our bodies. me and pap i mean. the bodies that we can summon, we can't change. paps did once, and besides looking kind of silly being orange, it didn't look bad. me though..." 

Oh my god. He isn't. 

"it's not like we can work out or anything to change our shape, you know? we're just...stuck with it." 

He is. 

Sans is self-conscious about his body. Poor guy. You would have never guessed. You keep your hands moving as you think. He's never given any indication of having issues with what kind of monster he is. He's always come across as the quiet sort of confident. 

"Well, I think you're handsome just as you are," you finally say. The lights of his eyes focus back on you again. "Really," you add, "I like you body or no body." You hope that since you didn't do the knee-jerk reassuring that he'll believe you.  

The smile that appears on his face tells you that yes, he does.  

"you're weird." 

"I like being weird. Is the tingle that I feel when I touch your bones magic?" 

"yeah, but you know I'm not literally bones, right? i just look it." 

No, you didn't. "So you can stop with the bone jokes than, right?" 

"ha! if i said yes, it'd be a  _fibula_." You bury your face in your hands to hide your laughter. Dammit, that'd been a good one. You don't have to be looking at him to see his smug face in your mind, his snicker forming it for you. 

You pull your head out of your hands when you feel him watching. That and he decides to run his hands under your shirt again. He's blushing again and when you meet his eyes, he keeps talking. 

"it's kind of embarrassing that you can feel that. magic is an extension of the SOUL. when you feel my magic like that, it's because everything i am wants you." 

"Aww," you coo and he blushes even darker. 

"In that case," you purr. You run your hands down his ribs, mentally bookmarking your deeper questions for later. You'll ask more about magic later. He needs a break."Can I show you how I feel through touch?"  

"hell fucking yes. you always do, but wanna try something?" 

"Sure." He grabs your hands, wrapping them in his. "What are we doing?" 

"something." Thanks Sans. "something to do with intent. think about how you feel about me. think about showing me how it feels when i touch you." 

"That sounds self-serving," you smirk down as you do what he says. When you trail up hands up his arms, he lets out a little moan. "How does intent work?" 

Just one more question then. 

"mmm...huh? Oh, your intentions stem from your nnn... your SOUL." Now this is fun. "in humans, that's where the little bit of magic you have left is. goddammit, why are you asking questions now?" He groans when your hands slip to his ribs again. 

"so, uh, since it's where your magic is you're essentially – _holyfuck_ \- touching me with magic that's based in your emotions."  

Huh, if your hands turn him into this, what would you mouth do? You intend to find out. 

An hour later, Sans says that your pretty good at showing how you feel through touch too. Of course, he only admits it to keep you in bed when you do try to get up. It works. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flllllluuuuuuuuffffff.  
> Make sure you brush your teeth after this folks.


End file.
